Battle of Wits
by hislastvow
Summary: Everything about them contrasted - their features, actions and personalities. Was it truly possible to care for both of them equally? Written by theselection-divergent-thehost and writewhatyouwantto during a shipping battle between Sherlolly and Shirene. theselection-divergent-thehost's writing is in bold, writewhatyouwantto in plain.


Battle Of Wits

**He didn't know how to feel. In many aspects, the wedding had gone exactly how he'd meant it to. The speech hadn't been disastrous, no one had actually been killed, and for the first time in his life he'd been successful at matchmaking. He hadn't thought the Maid of Honour would actually go for that guy; but he'd still done it. **

Matchmaking…

So many concepts and theorems he understood - the chemistry of attraction among them, certainly - yet in practise? He could recognise, for lack of a better word, the _symptoms _of attraction, and if he didn't lie to himself he could recognise that he had experienced them. Women were to him as a new species were to a scientist – observed, studied and possibly experienced first-hand, yet alien and mystifying. As separate from other men as Sherlock almost always found himself, he was certain that they too barely ever understood women truly.

**But then there was Molly…**

** Molly Hooper – brilliant scientist, apparent brilliant lover, and someone who understood him. Almost.**

** It had been over half a year since Sherlock had first met Molly's fiancée, and he hadn't warmed to him. There was something about Tom that Sherlock just didn't think was right. He was certain that Tom was a good guy (unlike some of the men Molly had dated) but he felt they weren't the right match for each other. They were both…clumsy. Goofy. Molly needed someone to keep her steady, on her toes. Someone to challenge her when needed a challenge, and someone to know when not to. Tom, he felt sure, was not the man for the job.**

(Could matchmaking, perhaps, be the answer? Perhaps he could sign Molly up on Uniform ? Hmm….but then it might churn out Lestrade, or worse, _ANDERSON.)_

Then again, neither was he. For all he lacked in his understanding of women and, honestly, almost the entirety of human nature, he was lacking far more in the way of a steady life. It wasn't fair, he believed, to subject Molly to that – not that he was certain he even wanted to. He would never, nor ever want, to be trapped in 'domestic comfort.' If he made commitments to anybody he was liable to break them to attend a case – in any sort of relationship even he knew that wasn't exactly an asset.

He thought of somebody else often. Somebody intriguing, exciting – past and yet so very new. Her intellect, the fall of her hair, the lengths she would go to in an attempt to excite him. As excellent an actor as he was, he was unable to deny the attraction, the longing, that he felt for her.

**But he could never have her. She was a fire, out of control and he knew he would never be able to keep her alight. He would wear her down, be the end of her.**

** Molly would be safer. She was also beautiful, in the right light she looked…radiant. Molly loved him, he knew. She was meant to love Tom, but she couldn't. Not when he was around. **

** Sherlock, with a growing sense of realisation, suddenly felt something. He loved Molly Hooper. Maybe not in the same way as Irene, maybe not with the same amount of raw, physical attraction, but he loved her all the same. And not just as a friend. **

** No matter how alien he seemed to women, or how alien women seemed to him, Sherlock Holmes was a man.**

** Molly Hooper was a woman.**

** And she wanted him.**

But.

There was always, constantly, that niggling little _but _that lingered in his mind whenever he thought of Molly Hooper.

If he were to be the death of Irene, he would indisputably be the death of Molly. Irene wore armour into battle – _any sort of armour_, he thought with a smirk. Molly was different. For all that he could think, possibly even know that he loved her, he did not love her enough to not care about the consequences of dragging her into his life. Didn't ordinary people spoke of unconditional love? What, if anything about he, Sherlock Holmes, was unconditional? Every action had a consequence, a reaction, everything had connotations and nothing formed from pure coincidence. If the fire that blazed between him and Irene could burn her, the destruction that he chased after, and in turn chased after him, would without a trace of a doubt destroy Molly. Between her and Irene, she was, albeit still loved, the safe option. Risk was sustenance, as critical as air to him – he could not survive without it.

And Molly could not survive with him.

He did not love Molly in the same way as he loved Ms Adler.

He loved the latter more.

With Molly, although he definitely loved her, and loved her as more than a friend, he was not certain of the full extent of that love. He didn't lust after her, nor wish for a relationship to exist between them. With Irene his lust was undeniable. The thought of her face, her lips, her lithe body – her exquisite _mind_ – wracked his body with such emotions as he could never picture experiencing with anybody else. With her, he realised suddenly, he did not care about the connotations – with everything was different. Perhaps, he wondered, she had been so foreign to him, so different, because for the first time in his existence he felt something utterly unconditional.

And perhaps that was all he needed.

**But there was still that sensation that was always at the back of his mind, that nagging feeling that was impossible to destroy. He wouldn't destroy Molly Hooper, if anything she would destroy him.**

** Would that be such a bad thing? After all, he is a terrible man. An awful, horrible man with no thoughts spared on other people's feeling.**

** If Molly changed him – made him into someone who didn't think purely about himself – would that be so awful? He'd still be as smart, as indestructible, only he'd be better. He could relate more.**

** Molly Hooper could make him into the person he thought he could never be. Sherlock knew he loved her enough. Of course he did, the only thing left to do was to let her know.**

** But first he had to destroy every single attraction he felt for Irene Adler. The only way to do that was to never speak to her again.**

He immediately scorned the idea. As above normal men as he may be, he remained undeniably a man. And he knew, as surely as his love for Irene Adler overpowered the love he felt for Molly, that he could no more easily stay away from the Woman as she could from him. To describe the two of them as magnets would be inaccurate – opposite poles were what drew magnets together, and he an Irene were not opposites. They were molecules – the same, bonded and, obviously, attracted to each other.

With Molly, of course there was a possibility that he could change, and become somebody new. But he shouldn't have to change. Certainly, if it meant being with Molly he'd consider it, however he could not foresee a circumstance under which he would actually go through with remaking himself entirely. Molly wanted – and indeed had chosen – a Tom; like him but not him. He did not wish to change, either. Certainly, he was flawed, anybody who spent any amount of time with him was assured of the fact, however he knew who he was and he was proud of it.

And so was Irene. She loved him as he was, and she was the first woman who had wanted him that he had wanted in return. Who he wanted still, even now.

This was typical animalistic behaviour, it occurred to him. The inability to choose one 'mate'. Perhaps he were not as advanced as he so often perceived himself to be. The primal instinct to want more than one member of the opposite sex bewildered him, yet he could not deny he felt it now. The battle waging in his head, the choice – Molly, comfort and love, Irene, fire and love – was one for another day.

Perhaps a less bitter day.

_a/n hope you enjoyed this shipping battle one-shot :) we wrote this after watching the sign of three. review if you liked :) to anyone who follows me (selectiondivergent...etc) i don't think there will be a sequel to my story. i may, however, start a full-length sherlolly fanfiction._

**A/N - I also hope you enjoyed reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it. My normal name on here is writewhatyouwantto. I wrote Irene. Hope you enjoy the final episode of Sherlock Series 3 next week!**


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